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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27174796">A Push In The Right Direction</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatyaMorrigan/pseuds/KatyaMorrigan'>KatyaMorrigan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Gen, Ketterdam more like Betterdam amirite, M/M, Multi, Older Characters, Other, Post-Canon, Years Later, if Ketterdam had character development</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:36:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,369</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27174796</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatyaMorrigan/pseuds/KatyaMorrigan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ketterdam isn't the place it once was. Previously the home of international and more local crime, it has become a place known for its equality and relative safety all thanks to the developments caused by the foiling of a drug smuggling plot many decades earlier. The rich and powerful are now much less rich and powerful; crime is no longer necessary to the survival of the lower classes, and children are now safe to walk the streets alone.<br/>A young boy walks home from school, thinking about the Ketterdam he knows now and the past Ketterdam that his parents have told him about, and runs into some familiar faces.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa, Matthias Helvar/Nina Zenik</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>106</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Push In The Right Direction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Day 22 of my NaNoWriMo writing challenge this year - one oneshot a day, every day for the whole of November. I'm following the SOFTober 2020 prompts by @wafflesandkruge on Instagram to give me some fluffy starting points for the coming month of fics.<br/>The prompt for today was "push", but I actually really struggled to come up with something for it, so I simply took a fic I had been in the process of writing before November and simply adapted the title and threw in some key phrasing.<br/>I am super proud of this one, and I hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Autumn always hit Ketterdam like the throw of a wet scarf, and little Hans Vilke was shivering as he left the school yard. His coat was still too large for him at the grand age of eight, but he liked to pretend that he looked like his father as he shouldered his satchel and walked alone down the grey misty streets. The Ketterdam Early Education School squatted between a few of the older mercher houses in the Geldstraat, meaning there was a fair walk to get home to his family who lived closer to the harbour. He liked the smell of the sea, and missed the salty air while he was at school. It made him think of going on adventures, of sailing far away from the dingy streets of Kerch and finding some far-off land that nobody had heard of yet. But Hans knew that nowadays the maps were pretty much full, and there were few corners of the world that hadn’t been seen by the various embassies. Still, a boy could dream.</p><p>Hans looked back over his shoulder at the sullen buildings surrounding his primary school. They were all stocky as barrels, once highly decorated in bright paint and gold inlays, but now very few of them were inhabited. His mamma had told him that Ketterdam was a place of greed and poverty when she had been a little girl, and that those houses which now echoed with the shouts of children from the schoolyard had once been filled with rich men who controlled the trade from here to Novyi Zem. It seemed odd to look at those buildings now and imagine the kinds of people that once slept in those upstairs rooms. Hans didn’t know anyone who matched his mamma’s descriptions of the ill-dressed unpleasant individuals who had turned against the poorer people like her family and let them starve as they decorated their homes with gold.</p><p>Adjusting his satchel strap again, Hans stood up straight and looked at the three rows of districts in front of him. It was a Friday, and mamma would be seeing her friends while papa visited the cemetery to pay respects to his dead oma. There was plenty of time to go wandering, and plenty of places he hadn’t seen before.</p><p>Mamma had forbade him from going into West Stave from the moment that she allowed him to walk home from school without the supervision of his older brother. There had been no reason to wonder why West Stave was out of bounds when he was younger, but Hans was grown up. His coat only had to be rolled up at the cuffs twice now. Surely it couldn’t hurt to go and have a look?</p><p>Hans remembered the arguments that his mamma and papa had had when it had first been suggested that he could walk home by himself. He hadn’t known what to do – it wasn’t his fault that mamma was frustrated with papa, but because his name was being used, it seemed like a problem he had caused. Mamma said it was far too dangerous to let a child go walking through Ketterdam alone in the early evening. The door had been closed on him at that point, but Hans had stayed outside to listen and heard his mamma list off the pickpockets and murderers and rapists that supposedly walked from the Harbour to the Geldstraat looking for little boys to prey on. Papa had sighed and walked over to her – probably, Hans could only hear the pattern of floorboards creaking – and assured her that this wasn’t the city that Ketterdam had become. That it had changed since they were children, and that they didn’t have to fear for themselves or Hans anymore. The streets were safe.</p><p>Later that night, Hans had gone to see Emiel, his brother, who was fourteen and probably knew about what mamma and papa were saying. He had slid under the covers beside Emiel, who pushed him away at first but then let Hans snuggle close and rest his head on the pillow too.</p><p>“Why is mamma scared of the streets?” he whispered in the darkness.</p><p>Emiel didn’t answer immediately, and Hans wondered if he should repeat his question. But then he responded.</p><p>“Ketterdam used to be the place that criminal lived.”</p><p>“All of them?”</p><p>“Well, not all of them, but most of them. Because there’s a harbour, it was easy to steal things and have things smuggled in when they shouldn’t be. There’s also East and West Stave, but I’m not telling you about them until you’re older.”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Because you’re six and you don’t need to know about the Staves until you’re as old as me.”</p><p>“But why is mamma scared now?”</p><p>Emiel sighed and shifted in the bed.</p><p>“When she and papa were little, Ketterdam was very dangerous—”</p><p>“Because of the criminals?”</p><p>“Yes Hans, now shut up and let me speak. The only way to have power in Ketterdam was to be rich, or to be one of the criminals. And to be honest, even the rich people weren’t safe from the criminals. Basically the criminals ran everything in Ketterdam, whether or not the government liked it.</p><p>“It wasn’t until a smuggling plot was uncovered by a gang and put in front of the courts that things started to change. It was criminals who had stopped something awful from being spread around the world, and it was criminals who had stopped a rich mercher from making ridiculous amounts of money from doing it. That gang changed the way the courts viewed the merchers, and although they didn’t change anything immediately, it meant that things were able to change.</p><p>“…I’m talking too much, Hans. You need to go to bed.”</p><p>“No, I want to hear more about the criminal gang! Were they bad?”</p><p>“Well, that depends on who you ask. The courts and the merchers say that the gang were bad and couldn’t be trusted. But often they were the only people that could keep you alive. Like I said, rich people controlled everything, and poor people like mamma and papa’s families weren’t helped by the rich people. It was the criminal gangs who gave them places to work, who got rid of the bad merchers, and who started to shift the way money went in Ketterdam.</p><p>“This one gang got rid of all of the evil people in Ketterdam—”</p><p>“Like the pickpockets and murderers and rapists that mamma is scared of?”</p><p>“Well, most of them, anyway. At least, they got rid of enough of them by themselves and revealed enough of the others to the courts that soon they were all gone or had lost enough power so as to not be dangerous.”</p><p>“And what about the criminal gangs?”</p><p>“There was less crime when money was shared more fairly. You see, it turns out that when people have enough for themselves, they don’t want to steal it from other people anymore. The poor people who had turned into criminals to keep themselves alive didn’t need to steal things to live anymore. And the people at the top with all of the money didn’t have the same power in Ketterdam to be able to make other people’s lives worse.”</p><p>“And so Ketterdam is safe now?”</p><p>“Definitely a lot safer than it was. …Are you done now? Can you go back to your own bed so I can sleep?”</p><p>That conversation with Emiel had made Hans think a lot about the city and what it had been like before he was born. He couldn’t imagine being scared of people who walked past you as you left school – or even that there wasn’t a school. Emiel had been part of the first generation of kids to be educated in Ketterdam for free, and he had only started when he was eight. Lucky for him, though – Hans wished he had been able to play at home for all of his life so far.</p><p>He was still looking down the three streets in front of him, fiddling with his folded cuffs. There was the University District curling back around behind him, the Government District just up from where he stood, and the Financial District down and to the left. Past the latter district was the Staves. And that’s where Hans wanted to go.</p><p>The permanent mist that carpeted the streets of Ketterdam was making Hans’ trousers damp, and as the streets started to get further from the natural light that glanced off the sea, he felt less and less certain of his decision to explore alone. With the tall buildings lining his vision on every side, the streets looked like a tunnel with no exit. All sunlight was filtered through the grey smog hanging over the city, and already the lamplighters were out to help combat the gloom. The streetlamps only helped to cast a sickly yellow glow over the path ahead, and Hans instinctively crossed the road every time there was someone walking towards him. He knew Ketterdam was safe now, he knew he didn’t need to worry – but the words of Emiel and his mamma were still lingering in his head as West Stave drew closer and he strayed further from familiar territory.</p><p>West Stave wasn’t as exciting as it had been while Hans still only thought of it as a forbidden place. The buildings were mostly boarded up, with painted woodwork as faded as those old mercher houses on the Geldstraat. Swinging shop signs were mottled with age and the damp weather, and Hans couldn’t help shivering as he saw warped images of ladies in tight dresses creaking from buildings with no lights inside. It was only an extra little walk from home, though – he could make it back in time to not be missed if he went fast enough.</p><p>Hans picked up his feet a little more, shouldering his satchel and pulling his oversized coat around his body again. More buildings, more alleyways, all in those once gaudy colours that now seemed sinister in the failing light. There were a few people around, some dressed like him in overcoats and jackets, and others wearing thinner items that were far more decorative. Some pretty women were talking outside one of the few buildings still lit up with bright bulbs and glowing paint – the House of the White Rose. They cooed at Hans, and he almost asked them if he could stay with them for a while, but he knew that if his mamma’s fears were right, he shouldn’t stop to talk to anyone.</p><p>By the time he reached the beginnings of East Stave, he no longer cared about looking around at the imposing brick flats that lined the darkening streets. He wanted to be at home – he wanted mamma to tell him off for being so late back, and papa to complain about the stains on the elbows of his coat.</p><p>He didn’t look at the people who passed him now, just kept on walking as fast as he could without looking scared, standing up straight and holding his bag tightly. It would be okay. Hans would get home okay.</p><p>As he made his way to the end of another row of streets, Hans suddenly saw someone he knew. A small Suli woman just a little bit older than his mother who often stopped to speak to them when they happened to meet was rearranging some purple flowers in a windowbox. She was wearing a long purple and black dress with her grey-streaked dark hair in a bun at the back of her head.</p><p>“Mrs Rietveld?”</p><p>She turned from her gardening and smiled when she saw him.</p><p>“Hans Vilke? What are you doing here?”</p><p>“I, erm, I walked the wrong way?” His face felt warm as he tried to lie, but Mrs Rietveld just reached out and put an arm around his shoulder.</p><p>“You got a bit lost? Come in, you can have some tea and I’ll take you home afterwards.”</p><p>Hans was so relieved to be with someone he knew again that he just followed her inside the house with the windowboxes full of big purple blooms. Was he about to get in trouble for being in East Stave? Would she tell his mamma?</p><p>Mrs Rietveld led him into a warm house that smelled of spices and old leather, the kitchen full of solid wooden furniture and vases of the same purple flowers as were outside. She sat him in one of the cushioned chairs and turned to her cupboards. Hans picked at the stitches on the seat.</p><p>“You look quite tired, Hans. Have you had anything to eat since your lunch hour?”</p><p>“No, Mrs Rietveld.”</p><p>“I have some stew that I made for my own lunch left over. Would you like some?”</p><p>“Yes please!”</p><p>The woman gave him a nice china bowl filled with cooled stew. It was still just warm enough to taste good, and Hans didn’t hesitate to fill his mouth with the richly spiced meat. His mamma had always said that the greatest compliment was an empty bowl, and although he wasn’t sure what a compliment was, he knew it was a good thing.</p><p>“What were you up to at school today then?” Mrs Rietveld asked, sitting herself opposite him at the table and taking one of the chopping knives from the sideboard. She held an oil cloth in one hand and started to polish it.</p><p>“Mathematics and world history,” Hans mumbled through his mouthfuls.</p><p>“Ooh, that sounds interesting,” she smiled. “What year are you in at school?”</p><p>“Year three,” he said, “but I’m going to be in year four next year.”</p><p>“Yes, that is how it works,” Mrs Rietveld chuckled. “I remember when my children studied the things you look at in year three. Of course, mine are much older now.”</p><p>“I think one is as old as my brother,” Hans said.</p><p>“Yes, that’s right. Hanza is my oldest, and I believe she is Emiel’s age. And Jordie is two years younger than her.”</p><p>Hans didn’t pay much attention to this. The stew tasted really good, and other people’s families weren’t interesting to talk about. He didn’t understand why grown-ups always asked about each other’s children – he would rather keep eating.</p><p>“And are you enjoying the things that you study?” Mrs Rietveld asked, examining her knife.</p><p>“Yes!” Hans said. “I really like world history. Today we talked about Novyi Zem and jurda harvests.”</p><p>“Ah yes, Novyi Zem is a very interesting country. I have a very close friend who grew up there. He is meant to be dropping by this afternoon.”</p><p>“Can I talk to him?” Hans asked.</p><p>“Well, perhaps. You may need to get home to your mamma before too long. I’m sure you wouldn’t like her to miss you while you are gone.”</p><p>Hans looked up, still a little worried that Mrs Rietveld was going to get him in trouble. But her face was calm and friendly, and she didn’t seem like the kind of grown-up to tell on him.</p><p>“Mamma doesn’t like the idea of me walking in the Staves,” he said. It was worth seeing if he could actually trust Mrs Rietveld. He wanted her to be nice and understanding, but sometimes that was exactly the kind of experiment that got you into trouble.</p><p>“I’m sure she doesn’t,” Mrs Rietveld said. “Ketterdam used to be a dangerous place, and it is hard to forget that even when it becomes safe again.”</p><p>“That’s what Emiel said!” he exclaimed. “He told me Ketterdam was full of criminals until some criminals made the government not trust merchers, and then nobody needed to do crimes anymore!”</p><p>Mrs Rietveld laughed, and Hans wondered whether he had misunderstood or said something embarrassing.</p><p>“You are right,” she said, her cheeks round with smiles. “That all happened very many years ago. I remember it well.”</p><p>“Can you tell me more?” Hans asked. This was so much more interesting than being at home.</p><p>“Oh, I don’t think I could,” she said, sighing. “It was so long ago, and there are facts that are easy to remember but hard to say. I was there when the sugar cane markets surged and crashed, when the courts ruled on the fate of Kuwei Yul-Bo, and I was there for the immediate aftermath. But then I went travelling for very many years and returned to Ketterdam once a lot of the changes your mother has told you about had taken place.”</p><p>“You went travelling?” Hans said, his eyes wide. This accidental afternoon visit was so much better than he had thought it could be. Mrs Rietveld was <em>cool.</em></p><p>“I did,” she smiled. “I had a boat which had been bought for me by a companion, and I stayed on the sea for nearly ten years, docking in many harbours along the way. When I finally came back to Ketterdam, it wasn’t the place I remembered, but it had changed for the better. It had been given a push in the right direction at the time I left, and upon my return those changes had settled into the norm.”</p><p>“I want a friend who’ll buy me a boat,” Hans said dreamily. Mrs Rietveld chuckled.</p><p>“I fell in with a bad group of people, but they were some of the best friends I ever had. I am still friends with them now, although we have turned into a much better group. People are neither good nor bad, and it is important to remember that any decision a person makes is led by a lot of things that they have experienced.”</p><p>Hans made a noise in response and swung his legs under the table. At that moment, a door creaked open, and from another room came a tall dark-skinned man in a shirt with yellow and orange patterns on it.</p><p>“Ah, this is the friend I mentioned to you,” Mrs Rietveld smiled, standing up and making her way over to the man. She wrapped her arms around his middle and he lifted her off the ground in a big hug, making her chuckle.</p><p>“How are you Inej?” he said, nuzzling the top of her head. “You have another friend!”</p><p>“Yes,” she laughed, “this is Hans Vilke. He’s Lotte’s little boy, if you remember her?”</p><p>“Oh, Lotte’s boy!” The man put Mrs Rietveld down and made his way over to the table, putting out a chair and sitting in it backwards so that he could rest his arms on the back of the chair.</p><p>“He’s been learning about Novyi Zem in school, and finds it very interesting.”</p><p>“Yes, I grew up there,” the man nodded sagely. “Everything there is orange because of the jurda harvests, even the sky.”</p><p>“Don’t tease him, Jesper,” she scolded him, tapping him on the head as she took her seat once more. “The sky isn’t orange in Novyi Zem, Hans. Don’t take anything he says seriously.”</p><p>“That is the best advice I can offer,” Jesper grinned. He had brilliant white teeth, and Hans smiled back. “Inej, do you know when Kaz is getting back?”</p><p>“No idea. He was taking the kids out to see the harbour, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they all ended up elsewhere.”</p><p>“Wylan has our brood right now,” Jesper said. “Marya’s teething and doesn’t want to be left alone.”</p><p>“I don’t know how you can manage three toddlers,” Mrs Rietveld said, shaking her head.</p><p>“The trick is to marry someone you can rely on to not teach them swear words.”</p><p>“Can I really rely on Kaz to do that?” They both laughed at her words. Hans didn’t understand the joke, and stopped paying attention at this point. Honestly, why did grown-ups care so much about each other’s children? He wasn’t in the least bit interested about people’s families – he wanted to hear about Mrs Rietveld travelling on the sea for ten years, or Jesper living in Novyi Zem, where the sky might or might not be the same colour as here.</p><p>Another door opened and closed, and Hans turned to see two teenagers walk in before heading up the stairs to the second floor, both slender and with skin just a little bit lighter than Mrs Rietveld’s, and another man walked in. He was clearly Kerch, with black hair peppered with grey and a pale complexion lined many times around his eyes. He wore a neatly pressed suit with silver buttons, and held a large cane in one hand. The cane had a crow’s head for a handle, and Hans was immediately jealous. This was Mr Rietveld, he knew that much, and remembered Emiel’s few warnings.</p><p>“Be careful of Mr Rietveld,” he had said. “His wife is one of mamma’s friends, but Mr Rietveld can be scary. Some people say he used to be a criminal. Don’t get on his wrong side.”</p><p>Hans thought back to his mother’s words, and decided to try a compliment.</p><p>“I really like your cane,” he said, twisting in his chair to get a closer look. “Can I hold it?”</p><p>Mrs Rietveld chuckled and walked over to her husband, putting a hand on his forearm and giving him a kiss. Hans grimaced and looked away, meeting Jesper’s eye and seeing him waggle his eyebrows. Hans giggled, and Jesper winked.</p><p>“Come on Kaz,” Jesper said, “let the boy hold your cane. There’s no harm, so long as you took out the shotgun inside.”</p><p>Mrs Rietveld covered her mouth and gave him a horrified look, but Mr Rietveld just gave a slow smile.</p><p>“I’m sure you’re used to Mr Hendriks-Fahey’s sense of humour by now, young man,” he said, limping into the room and sitting in the remaining empty chair. “There’s no gun in there. It is heavy, mind you.”</p><p>He lifted up the cane and passed it to Hans. Mr Rietveld was right – it was very heavy, and Hans couldn’t lift it up to stand on its foot. He just admired the head on its side, turning it around to look at the sharp beak and cold eyes of the crow.</p><p>“I want a cane like this,” he said, looking up at the grown-ups. They all smiled and chuckled.</p><p>“You don’t want the leg injury that means you need a cane like this,” Mr Rietveld said, “but they do come in handy.”</p><p>“You can use it to hit people you don’t like,” Jesper said in a stage-whisper, and Mrs Rietveld smacked him on the shoulder. “Not that you would, as such a sensible grown up young man.”</p><p>“No,” Hans said, “Hitting people is wrong.”</p><p>“They teach them well in Ketterdam now,” Jesper remarked. “Better than they taught us, anyway.”</p><p>“Some of us learnt better regardless of the teaching,” Mrs Rietveld smirked, earning another round of laughter.</p><p>“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Jesper asked Hans, looking at him in interest. Every adult asked him this, and Hans had a much more definite answer now.</p><p>“I want to be an explorer,” he said, sitting up straight. “Like Mrs Rietveld.”</p><p>There was scattered laughter again, and Jesper turned to the woman.</p><p>“What have you been telling this poor lad?”</p><p>“He mentioned learning about the rise of Ketterdam from his parents, and asked what I had seen,” she replied innocently. “I said that I had been out on the high seas during most of the change that happened after the trial of Kuwei Yul-Bo, and Hans was understandably very interested.”</p><p>They all looked at Hans, and he nodded to confirm.</p><p>“It’s a good job,” Mr Rietveld said. “All the best people spend some time at sea.” He shared a tender look with his wife, and Jesper rolled his eyes at Hans.</p><p>“What did you want to be when you grew up?” Hans asked.</p><p>“I wanted to be a blacksmith,” Jesper said, “and now I manage finances for the Brekker estate. Some trade-off.”</p><p>“I wanted to be an acrobat,” Mrs Rietveld smiled, “and I got to be that as well as a pirate for a while before I settled here and spent more time at home.”</p><p>“You were a pirate?” Hans whispered. She nodded, pressing her lips together with glee. “That’s so cool!”</p><p>“It was very cool,” she confirmed.</p><p>“And what did you want to be?” Hans asked Mr Rietveld. His face hardened for a second, and Hans suddenly understood why Emiel had told him to be wary of this well-mannered man.</p><p>“Alive.”</p><p>“Jeez, Kaz, little bit morbid for afternoon chats with a seven-year-old?”</p><p>“I’m eight, actually.”</p><p>“No offence, kid, but that’s basically the same.”</p><p>Hans huffed. Clearly Jesper didn’t understand as much as he had thought he did.</p><p>“Actually,” Mr Rietveld said, “I wanted to be a magician. I learned a lot of magic tricks as a boy, and I managed to put a fair few of them to good use as I grew up. I even disappeared a few times.”</p><p>“That’s really cool as well,” Hans said with a grin. Mr Rietveld nodded.</p><p>“My brother said you might be a criminal,” he tried, looking at the man to see how he reacted. There was no change in his facial expression, but around him, Mrs Rietveld and Jesper exchanged anxious looks.</p><p>“There are a lot of stories that go around about a man with a similar name to mine,” he said, “called Kaz Brekker. He was a criminal, absolutely, and one of the worst. Have you heard of him?”</p><p>“I’ve heard his name.”</p><p>“Well, Kaz Brekker was a criminal, a murderer, a thief, and all the things your mother will tell you to be careful of. He stole from the rich and from the poor, and didn’t much mind whose blood he spilled. But he realised after the trial of Kuwei Yul-Bo, from the care of a young woman who he had saved in an uncharacteristic act of kindness, that there was good he could do by being bad. He murdered, yes, but he murdered some terrible people, He stole, yes, but the money that he took was spent on the upkeep of families who wouldn’t have been able to feed themselves otherwise.</p><p>“He shifted the balance of power from the merchers and law-makers to the people, and soon the people were able to start making some rules themselves. Kaz Brekker did all that without being a good person, and the bad people who had been in power wanted him dead more than anything else. He was a symbol of the dregs of society, those who can push back against the pull of the wealthy and immoral, and a symbol is dangerous to people who don’t want change.”</p><p>“Did they kill Kaz Brekker?” Hans asked. He was fascinated. Mr Rietveld chuckled.</p><p>“No, but Kaz Brekker did die eventually. He stuck around long enough to see the old Ketterdam crumble and a new one rise from the ashes. Then, when he had done as much good as he could through violence and evil, he disappeared. Nobody has heard the name for some twenty-five years, and nobody expects to nowadays. He would be as old as I am, and just as crippled. No man like that would turn up on these streets anytime soon. Kaz Brekker is as good as dead, and we’re all better off that he doesn’t exist anymore.”</p><p>“Handsome bastard that he was,” Jesper said wistfully, receiving another smack from Mrs Rietveld. “What?”</p><p>“Language!” she tutted.</p><p>“I wish I could have met Kaz Brekker,” Hans said firmly. Everyone laughed, and Hans assumed it was another one of those grown-up jokes he didn’t quite understand.</p><p>“I’m sure he would have liked to meet you too, young man,” Mr Rietveld said. “You get to see the inferior Kaz instead. I’m no criminal.”</p><p>“Not than anyone else hears, anyway,” Jesper chimed in, causing more laughter.</p><p>“You and your jokes, Jes,” Mr Rietveld smirked, gesturing for his cane. Hans handed it back reluctantly, and Mr Rietveld stood up slowly. “I need to go check on Hanza and Jordie, make sure they’re getting on with their after-class work.”</p><p>“Give my godchildren my love,” Jesper called as Mr Rietveld went upstairs.</p><p>“Half-godchildren, as I’m sure Nina and Matthias would remind you,” came the corrective reply. Mrs Rietveld and Jesper laughed together.</p><p>“Speaking of after-class work,” she said, “I ought to walk you home now, Hans. It’s been lovely to have you here, but I’m sure your mother will be wondering where you are by now.”</p><p>“Okay,” he said resignedly. He hopped down from the chair and rolled up the cuffs of his sleeves again – they had come unravelled during all the talking. Mrs Rietveld took his hand and they left the house together.</p><p>The foggy skies were now dimming even more with the approaching night, and Hans was very glad to have a grown-up with him as they walked down the darkening streets. He was feeling rather silly for having wanted to walk the Staves alone before, but fortunately it seemed like nobody was going to question how he had ended up in the Rietveld’s house, or anything else about that evening. Mrs Rietveld was giving smiles and nods to a number of people that they passed, and suddenly the streets didn’t seem so frightening. Sure, they were dark and shrouded in mist, but when someone like Mrs Rietveld wasn’t scared and was friends with so many people, how could he be afraid? Even the villains he had been told about, like the infamous Kaz Brekker from years ago, had been good people really who made Ketterdam better. He didn’t need to be scared.</p><p>Before he knew it, they were reaching a widening of the streets, and Hans recognised the house fronts that he was now seeing, and the familiar salty smell of the incoming tide was welcoming him home.</p><p>“You like the sea air too, then?” Mrs Rietveld said as he inhaled deeply. Hans nodded. “Me too. You would enjoy being a pirate.”</p><p>He felt a surge of pride that Mrs Rietveld, who had done so many cool things he was jealous of, thought that he would be good at them too. They reached his front door, and she stopped him before they knocked.</p><p>“Now, Hans,” she said, “I’m not going to get you in trouble. But in return, I must tell some white lies. Do you understand the difference between a normal lie and a white lie?”</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>“Good. Normal lies should still be avoided as much as possible, but I can tell white lies and there is no problem with it. There is good that can come from a little sliver of badness.”</p><p>“Like what Kaz Brekker did.”</p><p>Mrs Rietveld smiled, and it was a mischievous smile that made him believe she had once been a pirate like the ones he read about in books.</p><p>“Just like Kaz.”</p><p>She knocked on the door, and Hans’ mamma answered. Mrs Rietveld told her that Hans had met up with her outside the school yard, and that because he had been studying world history it had been helpful for him to come back to her house and talk about the countries he had been looking at in class. She had friends from a lot of different countries, you see, and of course it made sense for Hans to talk to people who had lived in Novyi Zem and Ravka about their experiences. She was sorry it had taken so long – “you must be proud of how involved he is with his schoolwork!” – but he was home now and hadn’t had to walk alone for the first time in a while.</p><p>“Isn’t that lovely, then, Hans?” Mamma said. “I would love to hear about your day now that you’re home. Thank you Inej, this was so kind of you. Give my love to Kaz and the kids.”</p><p>“And mine to yours. Lovely to see you both. Goodbye!”</p><p>As Mrs Rietveld walked away and Hans was brought inside to discuss everything he had learned about Novyi Zem in his time with Jesper and Inej and Kaz, he realised something about the last think Mrs Rietveld had said before they had knocked on the door.</p><p>She hadn’t said “Kaz Brekker” when talking about the criminal – she had simply said “Kaz.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This started as a 'what if' inspired by my desire for the real world to be better... I can have some wish fulfillment through Ketterdam, surely, and it gives me the chance to imagine what life would be like for the characters of SoC waaaaay way after the action of the duology. Because I do wonder whether they stay criminals forever, even as adults.<br/>If you need anything clearing up about my image for the six Crows post-Crooked Kingdom (and not taking into account any KoS canon because I haven't read it oops) then feel free to comment with questions. I really went in deep with this one, and my god am I happy with it. This fic was hard work because I chose to create a child character to reveal all of this information, but I'm super proud of myself for trying a slightly new literary form and going with it.</p><p>Anyways... Hope you enjoyed it, and I should add that I have now linked my Ko-fi page on my profile so that you can support me if you so wish. No pressure, but I wanted the option there for anyone who fancied it!</p><p>Tomorrow's prompt is "celebrate", and it will be a Wesper fic based on an idea from a comment under a previous fic...</p></blockquote></div></div>
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